


Toska

by Harky21



Series: Toska [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Awkward first dates, Car Accidents, Cuddles, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Diver!Victor, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Pining Katsuki Yuuri, Pining Victor Nikiforov, Swimmer!Yuuri, no one dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 04:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17522102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harky21/pseuds/Harky21
Summary: Toska - noun /ˈtō-skə/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.Yuuri is making his way back from a potentially career-ending injury. Viktor is plateauing and finding the reason he started diving hard to remember. Finding each other may just be what they need to begin to heal.





	1. Chapter 1

**_Top Japanese Distance Swimmer Injured in Car Crash_ **

_ September 29th, 2015 _

_ Monday night Japanese distance swimmer Yuuri Katsuki was involved in a car accident in Detroit, Michigan. Katsuki has been attending university here in the States and training under Coach Cialdini for the last three years. He is known as a formidable competitor and has broken the NCAA records for the 400 IM, the 800 Free, and the 1500 Free. He recently missed the podium for 400 IM and 800 Free in the Pan Pacific Swimming Championships but took bronze by a tenth of a second in the 1500. _

_ Details have yet to be released, but it is known severe injuries were sustained by the swimmer. This accident will most likely prevent Katsuki from competing in the upcoming Summer Olympics. As Japan’s leading distance swimmer, this comes as bad news for the national team... _

Yuuri closes the article. He’s read the three small paragraphs countless times, obsessing over the words of a local Michigan newspaper that list his failures in life. He knows exactly how it ends.  _ It is unknown whether Katsuki will be able to swim again. _

Speculation of course. They hadn’t known the extent of his injuries, how his shoulder had been caught by twisted pieces of metal, nearly crushed. He shutters at the memory, sounds of shattering glass and crunching metal echoing in his ears, pain bursting across his body, lights and sirens dancing in and out of black. 

Swallowing thickly he pushes the images back down burying them again. 

Lucky. 

That’s what the doctors had said. Yuuri could have lost his arm, instead, he got away with dislocation and some torn ligaments and flesh. All healable. Completely possible for him to swim again in time. Enough that he can at least coach and get back in the water, but they didn’t know if he’d be able to make it back to pre-accident condition.

Yuuri isn’t sure what to think of this. Five months and he hasn’t stepped foot in a pool area. Part of him isn’t sure he ever wants to again and part of him is dying for the smell of chlorine in the air and the burn that only comes from a good work out. One that can clear his head like nothing else. 

After the surgeries, he ran back home to Hasetsu. And he’s still here, not knowing which way to go in life, what will get him out of the rut he’s driven himself in to. It’s the same things day after day. He runs in the morning, goes to therapy, and then back home to do more exercises. He sees Minako and the Nishigori’s, but never goes to the pool. It all feels like too much and not enough. He wants to hide from the world, but he’s also getting claustrophobic.

And then he sees him. The man with silver hair and eyes the color of the ocean. The same man who changed his life when he was ten. The man he started to chase after. At one point thought he could maybe even compete against until he discovered there weren’t any pools with diving wells close enough to him. 

It’s the third event of the Diving Grand Prix series. Victor Nikiforov takes gold with a grace and beauty Yuuri forgot existed in the world. He can’t sleep that night, thoughts running a mile a minute.

The next morning Yuuri finds himself standing at the edge of the pool, terrified and thrilled for what’s next.


	2. To Love Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Toska - noun /ˈtō-skə/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.
> 
> No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody or something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”  
> ― Vladimir Nabokov

“Again!”

Victor grits his teeth, frustration and anger coursing through him as he pulls himself out of the pool, water cascading from his shoulders. He’s been working on the dive for over an hour, slowly adding each component. He should have it down by now. Two and a half back twists, a pike somersault and a half from the 10 meter platform all in 1.5 seconds. He’s slapped his back on the water the last three times through, making him wish he could still use the training vest he had when he first started doing flips.

“You’re not pulling out from your pike early enough,” Yakov states evenly from the side.

“I know,” Victor snaps back, grabbing his shammy to wipe the water from his skin.

Yakov regards him a moment before calmly ordering, “Do one more for the day and then you’re done,” before turning to watch Yuri.

Victor grits his teeth, “I can handle more than one go. There’s still 15 minutes of practice left.”

“I’m sure you can, but it’s your most difficult dive and even you, Victor, have your off days. One more go and I want you to go warm up in the hot tub.”

Victor opens his mouth to protest again, but Yakov glares.

“No, Victor. One more and you’re done for the day. You dragged me out to this godforsaken mountain town. You will do as I say.”

Sighing in defeat, he throws his shammy back to the side before making his way up the stairs to the platform. He makes it one flight before huffing in frustration. Yeah, Victor has off days but the last few months were nothing _but_ off days. At the 5 meter platform he slows his steps, visualizing the dive for the umpteenth time.

_Walk, turn, balance, breathe, down, jump, throw back, right hand grabs left arm, twist, twist, twist and bend, pike, somersault, half, entry._

Victor reaches the top of the 10m platform and breathes deeply, toes digging into the thin layer of rubber covering unforgiving concrete. Closing his eyes, Victor visualizes the dive once more. Taking careful, steady steps, he makes his way to the edge of the platform, glancing down to check and make sure Yura is out of the water and Yakov is watching. A terse nod signals he’s allowed to begin. Turning, he centers his focus, stomach tightening as his body buzzes in anticipation.

Taking one last, steadying breath he launches himself up, muscle memory taking over as he twists, wind rushing past him. The water comes too soon and the telling sting of failure tingles on his legs as it envelopes his body. His entry was off again.

Letting himself sink to the bottom, pressure encases and traps him, ears pounding he stays still, stewing in his disappointment. The moments after a dive, when the world pauses, are the only ones when he seems to feel anything at all these days. Eventually, he has to go back up though.

Pushing, he shoots up and breaks through the water. He tosses his hair out of his eyes, immediately turning to the side of the pool where Yakov stands.

Victor half listens to the critique, already knowing he didn’t pull out of his pike in time again although he’d been closer. As he takes the stairs out of the water, the heaviness of fatigue hits him. Maybe Yakov is right to have him end early today.

“Victor.”

A steady hand on his shoulder makes him turn to find his coach. Maybe he should have been listening more carefully.

“Yes?” he asks after a moment of silence.

Yakov studies him, testing the words in his head of what he wants to say.

“If you need some time to yourself tonight you don’t have to eat with the team.”

Victor understands what Yakov is actually saying and the words burn. _Take care of yourself._

Pasting on a smile, Victor nods. Yakov has a way of seeing straight through Victor when he least wants it, despite how he rails on about how he never knows what the boy is thinking.

“Thanks, Yakov.”

“Don’t think that means you can go party, we still have practice at seven tomorrow morning. I expect you to be here promptly. Especially since you threw this pools schedule so far out of whack. You’re lucky they’re letting us train here at all,” he grumbles before turning back toward the water.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Victor nods and makes his way over the hot tub, sighing as he slides in, thankful for the heat on his sore muscles. He watches as his team keeps going. Yura yelling at Georgi because he cut him off at the stairs. Georgi laughing, Mila saying something to make Yura’s focus move to her. Yakov claps, shouting to get their attention.

The laugh that comes from Victor at their antics is hollow.

Hollow.

Maybe that’s why he hasn’t been able to dive. Why nothing feels right anymore. There’s no weight to him.

He stares at the bubbling water around him, playing with his pink shammy, placing it on the bubbles only for it to be dragged under.

No weight, no substance, nothing.

Victor looks back over to the others, making eye contact with Yakov he motions towards the locker rooms. Yakov nods and Victor heads out for the day.

Trudging to the locker room he goes through the same routine he does after every practice, shower, change, dry his hair, make sure his suit and towel are in his bag. Monotony all of it.

He finally makes his way outside.The wind is brisk, but not nearly as cold as back home. The number of cars on the street fascinates him, seeing as not a soul was there when he went into the training facility earlier. He chose this place so he could get away, but maybe that was just a bit too much to ask.

It is certainly beautiful though. The mountains stand tall and proud, watching over the town as the sunset paints the sky in pastels. Victor understands now why that one song sings about purple mountains majesty. He smiles a little to himself and begins to wander through the campus. Sandstone buildings give way to steel and glass. Small walks through corridors give way to ones lined with grass.

The sun sets and his path darkens, but he keeps going even as the temperature drops. He’s by a field now and the other reason he decided Flagstaff would be perfect appears right before his eyes. The stars have always enchanted him, pulled his gaze up to their vastness, but here... here they are truly spectacular. They dot the sky marking it clearly, no haze to obscure its vastness, making you realize just how small you truly are.

Turning back to his path, he lets his feet lead him where they will. Musing to himself that he really needed to eat something, anything, he continues to pass by buildings, trees, even a graveyard comes and goes as he wanders. He’d passed at least one food court, but the mere thought of food at the moment makes him cringe. It’s been getting harder to make himself eat lately. He knows he needs too. All the vitamins, minerals, the number of calories he needs to consume in a day. He shakes his head to clear it of the thought, looking around himself to see where he is now.

Large glass windows stand before him and Victor can’t help but huff a laugh at himself. He’s back at the pool again. Standing there a moment, he finally walks up the steps to the door, grabbing the handle and opening it. He doesn’t head back to the lockers, but instead up to the stands. As he enters, a rush of warm air greets him. It’d been a very long time since Victor was in the stands. He walks down the huge slabs of concrete to the rail, looking out over the pools. It looked to be free swim, by the number of people and lack of coaches on the sides. Adults, children, college students. So many different people, all leading their own lives.

Sitting down, Victor studies the swimmers. A young girl splashing with her dad in the shallow end, grinning so broadly it seemed her ears would split. Victor smiles a little at the scene remembering when he was young and begging to go to the pool, wishing he could love the water like that again.

~~~~~

Taking a deep breath, the soft scent of chlorine washes over him. Even hundreds of thousands of miles away it still feels the same. The smell and warm mugginess of the deck. No matter where Yuuri goes or how much he runs from it, the pool is still home.

Stepping out onto the deck from the lockers, he takes it in. The muted light, the stillness of the water, the trickling from the gutter. Here there are no prying eyes, no questioning stares. Yuuri’s glad he was able to get into the pool area tonight. Benefits of becoming friends with the manager, especially since he’s not _technically_ supposed to be here yet.

Minako would have his head if she knew he wasn’t in his room sleeping right now, but the demons that night were the kind he could only escape from in the water.

Standing at the edge of the pool, undisturbed and glistening, a bubble of anxiety starts to build in Yuuri’s chest. Funny how that comes with the water now. It used to be a small thrill, or a dread on particularly bad mornings, but coming back was something else altogether.

His fingers move unthinkingly to his shoulder, ghosting over gnarled edges and jagged lines that lead to an expanse of skin far too smooth. Yuuri bites his lip, the time when the very thought of a pool made him ache flashing through his mind. But being at the pool now... it was like seeing an old friend after far too long.

Breathing deeply, he grabs his cap and goggles from the edge of his suit, quickly pulling them on.

Yuuri swallows, concentrating on his body, carefully pulling each arm across his chest, then behind his head and stretching out behind his back, loosening the tightness from travel. He shakes each limb out, rolls his head, takes a deep breath, and dives in.

Coolness covers him as he begins to kick, slow methodical pulses before switching to a flutter. Yuuri relaxes into his stroke, feeling the weight of the water in his hands, pulling forward, falling into his breathing pattern effortlessly.

He isn’t sure how long he goes, but he doesn’t stop, all focus on each stroke, each kick, each breath, all with the perfect technique he’s lauded for.

_Was_ lauded for.

He switches to breaststroke and keeps going.

The burn in his chest comes earlier than usual, body tiring more quickly from the altitude. Part of him likes that. A new challenge to push through, to push harder through the fire settling in his muscles. After a few more laps he stops, chest burning as he pulls up to the wall, panting.

Looking to the clock it ticks through each second, digital numbers marching ceaselessly on. The minutes place it at half past. He isn’t sure of what hour at this point. Yuuri sighs, knowing he needs to get out and back to the hotel. His night time swim did the trick though, mind not running in circles anymore. He reaches up to the ledge, pulling himself out and trying not to trip. Once out, body protesting at the movement, he heads to the locker rooms, stopping at the water fountain to grab a drink. He really should have remembered to bring a water bottle with him.

A footstep clatters against the deck. Yuuri turns, stomach dropping at the thought of Minako finding him, but no one’s there. He turns to check again, shaking his head. He must just be tired, mind playing tricks on him.

He starts back to the lockers and his heart all but stops as someone steps from the shadows. He thinks again for a moment he’s been found, but Minako’s not that tall, and doesn’t have silver hair or blue…

Yuuri gapes at the man. It’s like he walked straight out of the posters on Yuuri’s bedroom wall.

_What the hell is Victor Nikiforov doing here?_

Victor steps forward again and Yuuri can see his throat bob.

“Hi. Do you speak English?”

His voice is accented, vowels drawn thin, just like in interviews.

Yuuri can’t do anything but nod dumbly, crossing his arms, realizing he’s only in his suit.

Victor smiles.

“I’m sorry to catch you now, but I was in the stands and…”

He pauses. Lips moving but no sound following, like the words just can’t make it through his lips as the try form thoughts. Shoulders falling, releasing a breath Yuuri hadn’t noticed the man was holding, Victor looks at him again, biting his lip.

“Would you like to go get coffee with me?”

Yuuri doesn’t answer, the only thought running through his mind at that moment that _Victor Nikiforov_ just asked him to get coffee.

Does Victor even know who Yuuri is?

“Do you know me?”

Victor blushes, mouth dropping open. “Right, sorry. You don’t know me. I’m Victor Nikiforov.”

He extends his hand to Yuuri, who takes it, still dumbfounded that this was happening. Victor just won the Grand Prix, he should be in Russia, not… not here.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” he mumbles back, still in awe.

Silence takes over and Victor bites his lip again, pulling his hand back and placing it on his neck.

“So umm, would you like to get coffee? Or something to eat? After you change of course, and I understand if you don’t want to.”

“No!” Yuuri says quickly. “No. I’d love to, just uuh give me… ten minutes, okay? I’ll meet you outside?”

Victor nods and grins agreeing to meet him in the waiting area.

Yuuri turns back and tries not to break into a run to the locker room in his excitement.

Victor, _the_ Victor Nikiforov just asked him to go get coffee. What the hell were the chances of that?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So I actually wrote this, idk a year ago? I have quite a few small side stories for the main plot and will post those in the series. I'm currently finishing out my Masters, so posting may be slow going, but I do love this AU. Let me know if you want small side stories posted as I go or later? The final piece from the zine is already posted in this series. Thank you so much for reading. Comments are always welcome. You can find me on twitter at @mooncatcher21 if you like.
> 
> ~Harky

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is the original Chasing Gold Zine promo! It's a background prequel to the piece found in the zine, which is also in this series.


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